


Mr. Brightside

by Andromytta



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel Big Bang 2017, Dream Sex, Drunk Dean, M/M, Man Whore Dean, Pining Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 12:02:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10536069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andromytta/pseuds/Andromytta
Summary: Based on the song "Mr. Brightside" by The Killers.  This story takes a look at how Castiel feels about Dean Winchester utilizing the lyrics of "Mr. Brightside."Castiel has loved Dean Winchester from the moment he "gripped him tight and rose him from perdition."  But will the hunter ever return his feelings?





	1. Preface & Verse 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Castiel Big Bang Challenge: http://castielbigbang.tumblr.com/  
> This was my first time writing for a challenge, so please be gentle!
> 
> My magnificent artist is jrnytthpst: https://jrnytthpst.tumblr.com/
> 
> Special thanks to my AMAZING Beta, Kim!
> 
> For the song, click here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LsHC8Hwnh30

 

[Mr. Brightside](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LsHC8Hwnh30)

One extremely late night, Dean Winchester stumbles into the Men of Letters Bunker, plastered out of his mind.  The first thing he sees is his angel, Castiel, seated at the conference table, serenely lost in thought.  He staggers over to the table and slurs, “Cass, I love you, man.”  And he crushes the angel’s lips in a wet, sloppy, whiskey drenched kiss before sauntering drunkenly to his room.

Castiel has been in love with Dean Winchester since he gripped him tight and raised him from perdition all those years ago.  But he never would have expected Dean to return his affections like that.  He knew Dean cared deeply for him, much in the same way Dean cared for his own brother, Sam.  That was all, Dean thought of Cass like a brother.  “It was only a kiss,” Cass tells himself.  Again, and again.

First Verse

_“Coming out of my cage, and I’ve been doing just fine, gotta gotta be down because I want it all…”_

When Dean kissed him, Castiel felt like he had been set free, that perhaps he could embrace his feelings for his hunter.  That maybe, just maybe, Dean felt the same way about him.  But, then again, Dean had been drunk.  It was only a kiss, after all.  But Cass wanted so much more.  He wanted it all.

_“It started out with a kiss, how did it end up like this? It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss.”_

Time passed.  Despite Dean’s lapse in judgement that drunken night, he continued on with his endless parade of one night stands with easy women (and the occasional easy man, but he’d never admit that.) 

As Castiel observed Dean’s behavior, it started to have an effect on him.  An effect it had never had before.  He knew Dean was, essentially, a man whore (not that Castiel was aware of that term, but he was well aware of Dean’s tendencies).  However, until that kiss, Dean’s extracurricular activities had never bothered him before.  “It was only a kiss.  How did it end up like this?” he would ask himself repeatedly.

_“Now I’m falling asleep while she’s calling a cab, while he’s having a smoke and she’s taking a drag.”_

Castiel leans against the wall of the cheap motel where he and the Winchesters have been staying during this case.  He feels his eyelids grow heavy as he watches Dean escort yet another date out of his hotel room.  She calls a cab while Dean lights up a cigarette for the both of them.  Castiel didn’t even know that Dean smoked.  Although he supposed it was a common practice after intercourse.  Intercourse.  Sex.  Dean had sex with that woman.  HIS Dean, HIS righteous man had intercourse night after night with woman after woman.  But he HAD kissed Castiel in a moment of drunkenness.  Castiel had heard that people will do and say things when they’re drunk that they wouldn’t have the courage to do while sober.  Didn’t that mean Dean had romantic feelings for Castiel?  Cass wondered what else Dean's behavior could have meant.

_“Now they’re going to bed, and my stomach is sick, and it’s all in my head.  But she’s touching his chest now, he takes off her dress now.  Let me go.”_

Another night, another cheap motel room, another easy woman.  For some reason, Dean had left the curtains open.  Did he know Castiel was watching him?  Did he WANT the angel to see?  He didn’t want to watch, but he did.  She touched Dean’s chest.  Dean removed her dress.  As the woman touched the hand print still burned into Dean’s shoulder from when Castiel rescued him from Hell, the angel clutched his stomach.  He was feeling sick.  Angels aren’t supposed to GET sick.  Was it all in his head?  This swimming feeling in stomach, the weakness in his knees?  What was this feeling?  “Let me go!” He screamed to no one.

_“And I just can’t look, it’s killing me.  And taking control…”_

Castiel couldn’t watch any more.  It was killing him.  He had to take control, if not of the situation, at least of himself.  How could an angel be reduced to this by a mere human?  But Dean wasn’t a mere human; Castiel had to concede to himself.  Dean was a very special human.  HIS human, even if Dean wasn’t fully aware of it yet.  It didn’t matter, though.  He wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize the relationship he did have with Dean.  He HAD to get control of himself.  What was making him feel like this anyway?

_“Jealousy, turning saints into the sea.  Swimming through sick lullabies, choking on your alibis.”_

Is this what jealousy feels like?  Was Castiel jealous?  It couldn’t be.  There is no way an Angel of the Lord should be jealous of a human.  Especially these easy female humans Dean seemed to be most attracted too.  It was becoming a habit for Dean to seek out Castiel’s company after he sent his date away.  Dean claimed he couldn’t sleep unless he knew Castiel was watching over him.  That had come as a surprise to the angel, since in the past Dean had expressed discomfort with being watched while he slept.  It was like a sick lullaby, Castiel watching over this human, whom he loved, after he had just watched him indulge his carnal needs with a stranger.  Of course, Dean never admitted to these affairs.  Always claimed he was having a “burger and beer” at some local dive.  Told Cass that he was lonely and would feel better if the angel was near him.  Of course, Castiel would do anything he could to make Dean feel better and more secure, no matter how hurt and miserable it made him to do it.

_“But it’s just the price I pay, destiny is calling me.  Open up my eager eyes, ‘cause I’m Mr. Brightside.”_

It was his destiny to watch over Dean Winchester.  Castiel knew that.  Castiel had ALWAYS known that.  What he didn’t know was if it was also his destiny to suffer this unrequited love for Dean Winchester.  Perhaps there was a chance that his love WASN’T unrequited.  He would keep his eager eyes open for any hints that his hunter felt as he did.  He always tried his best to look on the bright side.  He didn’t like to be weighed down by negative thoughts.  And obsessing over Dean’s night time affairs was pushing many negative thoughts into the angel’s mind.


	2. Verse 2

Second Verse

_“Coming out of my cage, and I’ve been doing just fine, gotta gotta be down because I want it all…”_

It happened again.  This time, Castiel was waiting for Dean in his motel room.  He would use his angelic grace to quietly exit the room if Dean came in with another one of his “companions.”  But he didn’t.  Dean stumbled into the room alone. 

“Cass!  I’m so happy to see you!” the hunter slurred.  “Have I told you, I love you, man.”  Another sloppy, wet, whiskey flavored kiss assaulted the angel’s lips.  This time, Castiel was almost expecting it, and responded, kissing Dean back.  Hard.  Dean’s green eyes grew wide in shock.  He pushed the angel away, probably harder than he intended.  “Cass, man, what are you doing?”

Castiel sank down into the nearest chair and dropped his head into his hands and groaned, low and long.  How could he possibly tell Dean that HE initiated the kiss?  Dean was clearly too inebriated to remotely be aware of what he was doing.  And he definitely wouldn’t believe Cass, even if he did tell him what really happened.  “Nothing happened, Dean.  Go to sleep.”  That last command was pointless, as Dean had already passed out on his bed.

Castiel dropped his head back into his hands and continued to chide himself.  He wanted it all.  Every time drunken Dean teased him with a kiss, all he wanted to do was confess his feelings to the hunter and do things to him he had only seen in porn when “it was there.”

_“It started out with a kiss, how did it end up like this? It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss.”_

Another kiss.  But it was only a kiss.  And a drunken kiss at that.   But it was all Cass could think about.  It took genuine effort to concentrate on what Sam was trying to tell him about their current case.  He couldn’t concentrate on anything.  All he could think about was Dean’s lips on his.  On how Dean’s tongue felt in his mouth.  How Dean’s kisses always tasted like whiskey.  This made him wonder how a sober kiss from Dean would taste.  Would it still taste like Dean’s favorite beverage?

“Cass?  Cass!  Are you even listening to me?”  Sam’s voice finally broke through Castiel’s day dream.

“I’m sorry, Sam.  I’m afraid I haven’t been listening.  What were you saying?”

_“Now I’m falling asleep while she’s calling a cab, while he’s having a smoke and she’s taking a drag.”_

Another case, another night, another cheap motel.  And another easy “date” for Dean.  Again, they share a smoke while waiting for the cab to collect her.  Castiel knew once the woman left, Dean would be seeking out his company.  The angel wanted to make himself scarce.  The last thing he wanted to do was watch over his hunter as he slept in a room that reeked of sex and alcohol.  What he wanted to do was curl up with his hunter after they made sweet, passionate love and snuggle him until they fell peacefully asleep in each other’s arms.  He wanted to take care of Dean in any and every way possible.  But Dean’s penchant for one night stands was very slowly killing Castiel.  He was starting to wish he had never left the safe sanctuary of Heaven.  Of course, when Dean sought him out and asked him to keep him company, Castiel willingly went with him.

_“Now they’re going to bed, and my stomach is sick, and it’s all in my head.  But she’s touching his chest now, he takes off her dress now.  Let me go.”_

As Castiel sat on the unoccupied bed, watching over Dean as he slept, he couldn’t help but replay the scene in his head.  The same scene he saw every night.  Same actions, different women.  She’d touch his chest, he’d remove her clothing.  If she happened to run her hand curiously over the handprint Castiel had burned into Dean’s shoulder, inevitably that sick feeling would return to the angel’s stomach.  That mark he left on Dean was his brand.  He OWNED Dean.  Or, rather, he felt like Dean belonged to him simply because he wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for Castiel. 

Of all the angels in Heaven, Castiel was the only one able to pull him from perdition.  The other angels had been trying for months before calling the captain of the garrison.  Rescuing a soul from the pit was the foot soldiers’ job, not the captain’s.  Many angels had been lost trying to retrieve the righteous man.  And yet, it took Castiel a matter of only a few hours to pull Dean out and put him back together.  Within a day, he had Dean repaired from the soul all the way to every hair on his head.  There was no record of a rescue happening so very quickly.  All the rest of Heaven marveled at it, and wondered why they hadn’t just sent Castiel in the first place.  And once Dean was out of Hell, Castiel made it his personal mission to watch over and protect Dean.  Everything he had done since then had been for Dean.  Even the mistakes he made.  He made them all because no matter what, he had to keep Dean alive and safe.

Thinking about everything he had gone through for Dean Winchester used to give Castiel a peaceful and happy feeling.  Now, it just made him ill.  If only Dean knew how Castiel really felt.  Would it make him feel any better?  The angel always decided that no, it wouldn’t.  Dean would recoil from him the same way he did the last time they kissed.  Castiel couldn’t take that rejection.  He wouldn’t SURVIVE that kind of rejection from the man he loved.  Castiel sighed and turned away from Dean.  He lay down in the bed he was occupying and attempted to get the sleep he didn’t really need.

_“And I just can’t look, it’s killing me.  And taking control…”_

It was becoming increasingly difficult to watch over Dean as he slept.  Castiel had gotten into the habit of turning away from Dean once he was sure the hunter was asleep.  He couldn’t look any at him anymore.  It really was killing him.  The only way he knew to get control of himself was to look at Dean as little as possible.  It was then that he decided he was no longer going to accompany Sam and Dean on their cases which took them out of Kansas.  He’d stay behind and do…what?  Pine for Dean?  As soon as he made the decision that he wouldn’t hunt with the Winchesters anymore, he knew it was pointless.  He would go anywhere Dean asked him too.  Even if it meant going back to Hell.  Or Castiel’s own personal Hell, as the case may be.

_“Jealousy, turning saints into the sea.  Swimming through sick lullabies, choking on your alibis.”_

The next night, after Dean’s “romantic” interlude, Castiel’s jealousy finally got the best of him.  Of course, Dean used his standard excuse about having been for a “burger and beer” before he asked Cass to come to his room.  Cass was done.

“You’re choking on your alibis, Dean.  Quit lying to me!  I know you weren’t having a ‘burger and beer’!”

“Cass, what in the hell are you talking about?”

“That-that—female you had in here!  If you’re so opposed to sleeping alone every night, why don’t you just invite HER to stay with you?  It doesn’t make sense to send her away in a cab only to seek out my companionship!”

“Honestly, Cass, I don’t think it’s any of your business if I have a random hook up and send her on her way.  I just thought you LIKED watching over me at night, that’s all.”  Dean lied.  He really DID feel better with Cass on the other bed in his motel room.  But he was so infuriated right now at the very thought that Castiel was aware of his intimate moments.  He did not want Cass to have the satisfaction of knowing just how much Dean NEEDED him there with him while he slept.  Hell, Dean barely wanted to admit it to himself.

“When I first pulled you from the pit, it was my JOB to watch over you, Dean.  But it’s become abundantly clear that you can take care of yourself.  You obviously don’t want or need me around like you once did.  I’ll see you and your brother in the morning when we can get back to work.”  With that, Castiel pulled his famous disappearing act.  He’d never admit this, but he didn’t actually leave Dean alone that night, he simply made himself invisible so the hunter would know what it feels like to be abandoned by your best friend, without actually having to abandon him.  He was seething.  He wanted Dean to suffer.  Sort of.

_“But it’s just the price I pay, destiny is calling me.  Open up my eager eyes, ‘cause I’m Mr. Brightside.”_

Later that night, Castiel watched Dean slip into a very fitful sleep, and he knew he couldn’t leave his hunter alone.  After all, it was his destiny to care for his human.  He made himself visible and sat down next to Dean.  He gently shook the hunter’s shoulder, the same one that bore his brand.  “Dean, wake up.  It’s OK; you’re just having a bad dream.  I’m here now.  It’s all going to be OK.”  Dean didn’t wake up, exactly, but he did roll over and fall into a more relaxed sleep.  It’s as if just subconsciously knowing his angel was with him made Dean relax.

As Castiel absorbed Dean’s reaction to his reassurances, his mind sparked with hope again.  Maybe Dean did have feelings for Castiel.  Perhaps they were just below the surface, where Dean couldn’t quite make them out for what they were.  Maybe that’s why Dean could only be affectionate when he was drunk.  Maybe that was the only time Dean could access those deeply buried feelings.  Castiel’s mind was swimming with the “maybes.”  It was during this swirling of possibilities that Cass fell into a deep sleep, which he never actually did, because angels don’t require sleep.  But he did sleep, and he did dream.  Was he dreaming?  Or did he jump into Dean’s dream?  He had been in Dean’s dreams before, but that was on purpose when he needed to secretly communicate with the hunter.  He never dropped into someone’s dream involuntarily.

_“I never…I never…I never…I never…”_

This dream, this was Dean’s most private dream and desire.  One he didn’t even remember upon waking.  He didn’t know he felt this way, not on any conscious level, anyway.  When Castiel slipped into this dream, he realized Dean had accidentally pulled him in.  Castiel could always sense where Dean was, despite him being warded from all angels, because Dean was always longing for him.  Castiel had always assumed that was because Dean simply missed his friendship.  But this dream that he was pulled into told a completely different story.  This dream mirrored Castiel’s own desire to completely and utterly fulfil every one of Dean’s needs and wants.  This dream was hot, sensual, and romantic.  It was, quite literally, the most erotic thing Castiel had ever experienced.  And he was quite sure it was the same for Dean.  Their mouths crashed together hotly, and then came together sweetly.  Their bodies entangled as if they were made for each other.  The pure LOVE that filled the room as they touched and kissed electrified the air.  This was the dream that would put all other dreams to shame.  As much as Castiel had hoped and wanted Dean to feel these things for him, he never, ever expected it.

Once they had both awakened the next morning, it was quite clear that Dean had no recollection of their passionate “night” together.  But Castiel remembered.  He remembered every single detail.  And he also KNEW it wasn’t his dream.  He didn’t know how he knew, but he was absolutely SURE it was Dean’s dream.  As disappointed as he was that Dean didn’t remember it, he was equally unsurprised.  Castiel knew that there were just some things the hunter would never admit to anyone, not even to himself.


	3. Verse 3

Third Verse

_“Now I’m falling asleep while she’s calling a cab, while he’s having a smoke and she’s taking a drag.”_

Dean shared a cigarette with his latest conquest as he waited with her for her cab to arrive.  He didn’t really smoke.  Only after his one night stands, which have become more and more frequent lately.  He tells himself the cigarette is simply a way to get the taste of the lonely divorcee out of his mouth.  Or maybe it was to cover up the taste of his own loneliness.  He missed Lisa.  At least, he thought he did.  Even though it’s been years since he sent her and Ben away and begged Cass to erase him from their memories, he still missed her.  He knows he did the right thing for them, to keep them safe.  Maybe he missed the “idea” of her.  Lisa Braeden was the first person outside of his family (blood OR adopted) who he can say he actually loved.  Did he still love her?  He wasn’t even sure anymore.

Dean sighed heavily as he stomped out his smoke and watched the cab carry what’s her name off.  He removed the tie from around the door knob and went in.  He knew Sammy would stay away as long as the tie was on the door.  Since Cass hadn’t spoken to Dean since their fight and wasn’t on this hunt with them, Dean and Sam had decided to return to their habit of sharing a room in order to save money.

_“Now they’re going to bed, and my stomach is sick, and it’s all in my head.  But she’s touching his chest now, he takes off her dress now.  Let me go.”_

The next evening, Dean is being serviced by a very talented “lady” he met at the local dive bar.  She had a mouth that could only be described as “magical” and Dean was really getting into it.  He hadn’t lucked into someone this gifted in a very long time.  Dean started to voice his appreciation very enthusiastically. 

“Oh God!  Oh-oh fuck!  Oh Cass-Castiel!”

Dean jerks up suddenly in the bed and sits up, surprised at what just came out of his mouth.  The girl, not shockingly, stopped what she was doing.  She tried to say something.  Perhaps cuss him out or something.  But she was so offended; that all she could do was snatch up her belongs and storm out of the room. 

When she stomped out, she saw Sam leaning casually on his brother’s Impala. She gives Sam the dirtiest look anyone has ever given anybody in the history of ever and snaps out, “Are you Castiel?”  Before Sam can even answer, she hurries away, pulling her cell phone out to call a cab as she leaves.

A very confused Sam grabs Dean’s tie off of the door knob and enters the room.  “Dude, what the hell happened with your date?  And why did she ask me if I was Castiel?”

“Man, I have no idea what just happened,” Dean replies.  “She was amazing, and I was really getting into it.  I mean really…”

Sam interrupts him, “I don’t need the gory details.”

“Anyway,” Dean continues, “For some reason I called out ‘Castiel’ during the best part.  What. The. Fuck? I don’t even call Cass by his real name…and I CERTAINLY don’t call out his name during sex!”

Sam had no response.  Well, almost no response for his brother.  “Dude, cover up.” It was literally the only thing Sam could think of to say at this point.

“Fuck.  I need a shower anyway.”  Dean gathers the sheet around him and makes his way to the bathroom.

Sam couldn’t help but chuckle to himself once his brother is out of ear shot.  He had been suspicious of Dean’s feelings about the angel for years, but he knew it would take a miracle of the grandest proportions for Dean to ever own up to them.  Maybe this would be the kick in the ass his brother needed to admit how he was feeling.

_“Coming out of my cage, and I’ve been doing just fine, gotta gotta be down because I want it all…”_

In the middle of the night, Sam is awakened by the excessively loud noises coming from his brother’s bed.  “What the hell?” he said to himself.  Sam looked over to see Dean writhing in his bed, moaning and calling out for Cass in his sleep.  Actually, he wasn’t calling for “Cass” like he does when he’s praying to the angel.  It would be more accurate to describe the sound coming out of Dean’s mouth as a moan.  He was moaning “Castiel” in his sleep as he writhed around the cheap motel bed. 

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Sam said before flinging a pillow towards his brother’s head.  His aim was spot on and it caught Dean right in the face.

Dean caught the pillow…and started snuggling it.  It didn’t even remotely disturb his dream filled sleep.  Instead, he started mouthing at the pillow like he was kissing it.  And he was still making ungodly noises that would make it impossible for Sam to get back to sleep.

“For crying out loud!” Sam practically shouted.  He had to wake Dean up.  This was ridiculous.  He did the only other thing he could think of that might awaken his brother.  Sam picked up his cell phone and called Dean.

Finally, Dean stirred as the loud hard rock of his ring tone filled the tiny hotel room.  He awoke with a start and looked around the room.  When he noticed Sam with his own phone held to his ear and a mirthful grin on his face, Dean responded by shooting him the dirtiest look his half-awake being could muster.  “Dude!  What the fuck?”

“Don’t ‘Dude, what the fuck’ me, Dean.  YOU were the one moaning and calling out for Cass in your sleep,” Sam retorted.  “Actually, you were calling out for ‘Castiel, oh Castiel’,” Sam said the last part in a mocking, high pitched voice.

If looks could kill, surely the look Dean shot across the room at Sam would have left him a corpse.  “Did you really just wake me up in the middle of the God damned night to make fun of me for chasing away my date earlier?”

“No.  You really were moaning and calling out for Cass in your sleep.  Dude, you woke me up from the pretty amazing dream I was having.  I seriously think you should figure out what you were dreaming about so passionately.”  Sam practically waggled his eyebrows at his brother as he emphasized “passionately.”

Dean dropped his head into his hands and then raked them through his light brown hair.  “What WAS I dreaming about?”  He clenched his eyes shut as he tried to remember.  And opened them almost immediately.  His bright green eyes widened to the size of saucers as the dream came flooding back to him.  “Holy mother of crap.  That was probably the most erotic dream I’ve ever had in my life…”

“Dude, again, I don’t need details,” Sam interrupts.

“No, but it wasn’t just that, Sam.” Dean continued.  “It was also maybe the best dream I ever had…not just the sex part, which was pretty awesome…”

Sam shot him a look.

“But it was more the feelings….the emotions,” Dean kept right on talking, ignoring his brother’s glare.  “There was passion and l-love like I don’t think I’ve experienced before.”  Dean stuttered on the word love, as it was something he just didn’t express verbally.  Ever.

“Dean, it doesn’t take a shrink to interpret a dream like that.  Dude, it’s obvious that you’re in love with Cass.”

“You shut your face!  You don’t know what you’re talking about.  Cass is my best friend.  I mean, besides you, but you’re my brother, so that doesn’t count…”  Dean was starting to babble.  Dean doesn’t babble.  What the hell was going on with him anyway?  Dean didn’t even understand what was going on with him.

Sam just shook his head.  “Ok, fine.  You’re NOT in love with Cass.  Can we go back to sleep then.  We have a long drive home tomorrow.”

“Yeah, fine.  We should go back to sleep.” Dean replied glumly.

_“It started out with a kiss, how did it end up like this? It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss.”_

But Dean couldn’t go back to sleep.  He kept replaying the dream in his head.  The feelings it stirred within him.  And what Sam had said.  Sam couldn’t possibly be right.  Dean was not in love with Castiel.  He just wasn’t.  Sure, he had affection for the angel who raised him from perdition.  But it was brotherly affection.  It was the same sort of affection he had for Sam.  Right?  Of course it was.  At least, that’s what he tried to tell himself.

Dean sat bolt upright in bed.  He remembered, he KISSED Cass.  Twice.  Sure, he was wasted, but didn’t he read once that people will do things while drunk that they don’t have the guts to do while sober? 

It wasn’t the same.  The feelings he had for the angel were far, far different than the feelings he had for his little brother.  Dammit.  Sammy was right.  He IS in love with Castiel.  What. The fuck. Was he going to do about it?

Dean didn’t want to wake Sam up again to share his personal epiphany.  But the second Sam’s alarm went off, Dean blurted out, “You’re right, Sammy.  Hell, I’ve already kissed the dude.  Twice.  While drunk.  I should really kiss him sober.  I might enjoy it more.  He might too.”

Sam just gave him a knowing smile.  And now he had to figure out how to get Cass to meet them back at the bunker so that Dean could finally admit his feelings.  Sam shot a text message to the angel, “Cass, come back to the bunker.  Whatever you and Dean are fighting about, it’s time to make up.  Please.”  He said he didn’t know why he wasn’t speaking to Dean at the moment, but Sam assured Castiel that whatever it was, he would want to forgive Dean soon.

_“Coming out of my cage, and I’ve been doing just fine, gotta gotta be down because I want it all…”_

_“It started out with a kiss, how did it end up like this? It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss.”_

Castiel was already at the bunker when he received Sam’s text message.  He didn’t know why he had gone back there when he really did not want to be in the same place as Dean.  He couldn’t deal with the possibility of slipping into one of Dean’s dreams again.  It would hurt too much.  But something had pushed him into returning the bunker.  And Sam’s text message just added to the mysterious feeling of content that had seeped into the angel’s heart.

Castiel never responded to Sam’s text message.  He had been sitting in the bunker for hours, his mind working overtime to try to interpret Sam’s cryptic message.  He was about to give up all together and get the hell out of dodge before Dean and Sam arrived, but he was too late.  Before he could move to exit the bunker, the door was already opening and Dean was pounding down the stairs towards him.  Cass stood frozen in the middle of the room.

“Cass!  Cass!  Man, am I glad to see you!” Dean called as he ran down the stairs towards his angel.  He came to stop in front of Castiel and looked at him, his green eyes drinking in the angel’s blue ones.  “Cass, I love you, man.”  And just as he had done the last time he said these words to Castiel, he pulled him into a passionate kiss.  But this time there was no trace of whiskey.

_“But it’s just the price I pay, destiny is calling me.  Open up my eager eyes, ‘cause I’m Mr. Brightside.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this, please let me know! I'm thinking about writing an entire series of Destiel stories based on songs.


End file.
